


city lights

by nocturnalie



Series: nothing but a smile [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Exhibitionism, First Time, Ignis can't admit he's here for it until he breaks down first, M/M, Noctis gets off on people he loves paying attention to him, Noctis sends Ignis nudes, Polyamory, Pre-OT4, Sexting, Title Kink, the sequel but they both stand alone just fine too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnalie/pseuds/nocturnalie
Summary: “You didn’t say anything."Ignis weighed up the value of playing dumb, but Noctis, to his credit, had never underestimated how clever Ignis really was. “I assumed it was not meant for me.”“It wasn’t,” Noctis said hotly.





	city lights

Ignis didn’t think much of it, at first.

 

He noticed Noctis was certainly on his phone more often. “Do I have to confiscate that from you, Your Highness?” Ignis murmured, sotto voce, as the Councillor continued to drone on about fish imports. Normally seafood was a surefire way to keep Noctis’ attention, not lose it.

 

Noctis jumped, as though he were guilty of a far more serious crime than not paying attention in a Council meeting. Luckily Noctis and Ignis were positioned at the far end of the Council table, ostensibly just there to learn and listen, though Ignis was a full member of the Council and Noctis was expected to be able to speak capably if called upon.

 

He tucked his phone back into his slacks. “I’d like to see you try.”

 

Ignis declined to respond, turning his attention back to the Councillor.

 

Recently he and Noctis had commenced tag training sessions with Gladio, all three of them on the mats at the same time. They still had individual sessions, but these team sessions were exhilarating, either all three of them teaming up against some of the glaives, or two of them against the other. Noctis had responded well to teamwork challenges – far better than Gladio and Ignis had expected, in private conversations they’d conducted after the first few sessions.

 

Yet still, every spare second during their group training, Noctis made a beeline for his phone. After the fourth time, Gladio turned to Ignis, his eyebrows nearly up to his hairline. “The fuck?” he mouthed.

 

Ignis rolled his eyes and stifled a sigh. “Each time you touch your phone, starting now, Your Highness,” he began, and Noctis jerked and fumbled the phone back onto the pile of towels, “we’ll extend the training session by ten minutes.” As Noctis opened his mouth to protest, Ignis summoned his lance from the Armiger and hazarded a guess at the person on the other end of the line. “Prompto can wait.”

 

Noctis’ flush extended well down below the cut of his training shirt. Hm. Perhaps it wasn’t Prompto, to elicit that reaction from Noctis.

 

Then, one Saturday morning, Ignis stood in Noctis’ kitchen preparing breakfast for himself and Noctis. Noctis had to review three files, as well as the notes Ignis had taken for the Council meetings Noctis had missed during his university classes; later, they were to attend the opening of a veterinary hospital funded by Noctis’ own charity foundation, then a small gala for a noblewoman’s fiftieth birthday. After that there was training with Gladio and a late supper with King Regis.

 

It was a more active Saturday than usual, but Ignis had wanted to give Noctis most of Sunday to himself; he tried to give Noctis at least one day a week off. Since it was a busy Saturday, he hadn’t gone into the bedroom to wake Noctis right away, preferring to have the bacon and eggs ready to eat when he dragged Noctis out of bed.

 

On the counter, Ignis’ phone buzzed.

 

Ignis frowned at it. His university friends knew he was unavailable on Saturday; Gladio knew they’d see each other at training later. The only other people who texted him, instead of called, were Prompto and Noctis.

 

He checked the bacon in the oven, then picked up the phone and swiped it on.

 

Noctis had sent him a message? Why on earth – the laziest little –

 

Ignis keyed in his code to read the message, his mouth already open to shout at Noctis even from here about such reprehensible behaviour.

 

The words in his mouth dried up completely as the message loaded.

 

It was a photograph message.

 

Noctis was naked.

 

The photograph was captioned: _Your morning motivation_ , the message read, followed by a small heart. In the image, Noctis was twisted in his bedsheets, the morning sun dappled across his bare hip and chest. His eyes looked even more violet than usual, shaded under his fringe as he smiled at the camera.

 

There was more of him on display than Ignis had ever seen during training. In fact, the last time he’d seen that much of Noctis’ skin, Noctis had just thrown up all over both of them, violently ill with the flu at age thirteen, and Ignis had had to strip them both off to get them into the shower before he threw up too.

 

The door to the bedroom opened, and Ignis hurriedly shoved his phone in his pocket. What did he do? Did he confront Noctis? It was completely unacceptable – inappropriate – for Noctis to send him anything like that – for Noctis to send anyone anything like that – and who knew who might have received that message, because surely Noctis hadn’t meant to send it to Ignis. Phones were extraordinarily hackable these days – Ignis had managed to prevent Noctis’ phone from being cracked open in the media no less than three times with new firewalls and security measures – the whole of Insomnia, the whole world could see Noctis like that if Noctis wasn’t careful.

 

His heart was racing enough that he was able to stomp down the flare of jealousy at that thought with little more than a frown. As a pyjama-clad Noctis shuffled into the kitchen, drawn no doubt by the scent of bacon, Ignis decided to do the only thing he could do when faced with a storm in his mind of this magnitude.

 

“Morning, Specs,” Noctis yawned. He opened the fridge.

 

“Good morning, Your Highness. Don’t drink straight out of the juice bottle – the glasses are right by your elbow.” He served up the bacon and eggs, his heart slamming in his ears the whole time.

 

Noctis removed his mouth from the lip of the juice bottle and poured a glass instead, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like we don’t share all the same germs, anyway,” he complained. “The instant I get sick with anything, you do, too.”

 

Yes. Focus on the memory of Noctis throwing up all over him. That should help. “I’d like to avoid that, if at all possible, thank you, Your Highness.” Ignis adjusted his glasses and picked up the plates to carry them to the table. “Let me run you through your schedule for the day.”

 

Noctis groaned, and the morning continued.

 

Not once did either of them mention the photograph. Ignis’ heartrate returned to normal eventually, and he was even able to speak coherently on matters like foreign trade and criminal justice, which should not have been possible with such a clear memory of his naked employer in his head.

 

Because that was what Noctis was: his employer. His charge. His prince.

 

Definitely not now, never had been and never would be, his to look at like he’d looked at that photograph, the split second Ignis had thought it was meant for him.

 

Of course, eventually Noctis realised that he had sent Ignis the photograph rather than whomever he had intended to send it to. That happened in between the veterinary hospital opening and the gala. Noctis was naturally stapled to his phone in the car ride, and for once, Ignis was in the back with him, as the chauffer corps co-ordinated transport between official events.

 

Ignis worked quietly on his laptop on his poli sci essay. Noctis was engrossed in something that had his phone horizontal – likely a game. Then he received a message, the device vibrating, and he turned it vertical again.

 

Then he jumped so hard Ignis had to rescue the glass of water in the arm rest between them.

 

Noctis hit the divider, which slid up smoothly and separated them from the royal driver in less than two seconds. Ignis righted the glass, and by the time he set his laptop aside, Noctis had withdrawn to the corner of the car and thrown his arm over his eyes. “You didn’t say anything.”

 

Ignis weighed up the value of playing dumb, but Noctis, to his credit, had never underestimated how clever Ignis really was. “I assumed it was not meant for me.”

 

“It wasn’t,” Noctis said hotly.

 

“As I assumed. And so I said nothing.” Ignis felt like he was dealing with a wild animal.

 

Noctis let his arm fall off his eyes. His gaze skipped around the car, to the ceiling and the door and the floor and the minifridge, before finally coming back to Ignis. Ignis waited, patiently, for Noctis to say his piece.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Noctis sounded still somewhat defensive, but there was a thread of curiosity underneath. “Weren’t you – I don’t know. Embarrassed? Angry? Aren’t you going to lecture me on being responsible?”

 

“Noctis.” Ignis adjusted his glasses. “I already have rather over the top measures in place to prevent your phone’s contents being acquired and distributed to the media. I assume whomever this person is, you yourself have made them aware of the importance of keeping what is private, private. You are a very private person yourself, if you don’t mind my saying so. I don’t believe you would jeopardise that for a fling.”

 

“It’s…” Noctis fidgeted with his phone, still clutched in one hand. “Not a fling.”

 

“I didn’t think so.” Ignis ignored the twist in his chest and settled back into his seat. “If you have judged this person worth the risk, Noctis, then you must be prepared to accept the consequences, should things go wrong. Naturally I would prefer to put my own security on that person’s devices, but if that’s not possible, then so be it.”

 

Slowly, Noctis sat back in his own seat. “You’re really not angry?”

 

Upset, perhaps. But Ignis had never let Noctis see him upset, and he wasn’t going to start now. Noctis’ emotional health was one of his foremost priorities, and it was difficult enough keeping the prince happy when he had no mother, an unwell father, an incredible amount of civil responsibility, a war threatening on the horizon, a potential arranged marriage, a stressful university education, and very few friends.

 

If Noctis thought he’d upset Ignis personally, he would blame himself, and the perceived resentment would sour their relationship. Ignis couldn’t afford that to happen. He… had very few friends himself.

 

“I’m really not angry,” Ignis said, as sincerely as he could manage. “Or embarrassed. I only entreat you to be careful, Your Highness.”

 

Noctis took a breath, like he wanted to say something lengthy. Then the car began to slow, and they both glanced out the window to see the Citadel gates. “Okay, Specs,” Noctis said. “I promise. I’ll be careful.”

 

The next week, Noctis delivered him a phone and a laptop that had been carefully edited to remove or obscure personal details. “Can you do your thing on these?” Noctis asked. “Security-wise?”

 

Ignis hesitated, then gestured to the side table. He’d been afforded a small office in the Citadel to go with his Council appointment, and Noctis knew he could find Ignis here whenever he wasn’t at class, at training, in a meeting, or with Noctis himself. “Give me a day,” he said.

 

Noctis beamed at him.

 

Though Ignis tried very hard not to look, the chocobo sticker hidden inside the nondescript case betrayed the true owner of the phone. He stayed out of the personal folders as he installed the military-grade firewalls and security operations. He tested the security by attempting to break into the devices once he’d locked them.

 

He didn’t know if he was relieved or disgruntled when the security proved too complex for him.

 

The next day he returned the laptop and phone to Noctis. “These should prove secure, now.” For a split second, he wanted to say, _You can tell Prompto I didn’t look_ , but somehow he managed to restrain himself.

 

“Thanks, Specs.” Noctis opened his mouth again like he wanted to say whatever it was he’d stopped himself from saying in the car, but just as before, he blew out a breath instead. “I appreciate it.”

 

“Of course, Your Highness.” Ignis withdrew a folder from his own messenger bag. “I brought the findings from the daggerquill hearing. Shall we?”

 

Noctis sighed.

 

The next night, Noctis and Prompto decided to have a video game marathon sleepover. Ignis shared dinner with them, diplomatically ignoring the foot nudges under the table and the leaning and the tiny private smiles. As soon as he could, he escaped to his own apartment, arriving at the unreasonably early time of eight forty-three.

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been home this early with nothing to do. He’d gotten all his notes done, his essay was finished, Noctis was fully briefed and occupied, and he’d already been to training with Gladio during their lunch break between classes. His body still ached from how easily Gladio had thrown him around the mats, but pleasantly, in that way that Ignis knew meant he’d sleep well. He tucked his shoes in the cubby by the door and considered his options.

 

It was too late to be considering dessert, but Ignis retrieved his favourite sweets cookbook anyway. He undid his tie and vest and sprawled in his armchair the way he only did when he was alone, the book propped open in his lap.

 

He browsed the recipes indulgently, brainstorming ways to improve them. Add honey and blueberries to that – and that one there would be better in a pie with a hazelnut crust. To this one on page thirty three, he could add a sprig of –

 

His phone buzzed.

 

Ignis let his head fall back against the armchair. Twelve whole minutes of peace.

 

He fished his phone out of his pocket. A message from Noctis. No doubt asking Ignis to run to the grocery for something disgustingly sweet and unhealthy. He keyed in his code.

 

It was not a shopping request.

 

That was Noctis’ bathroom – Ignis knew the black tile, the opaque glass of the shower screen behind him. And that was Noctis kneeling, his fingers on his hard nipple, his shirt off and his trousers open to show his pubic hair trailing down into the shadow between his legs. No underwear, Ignis noted distantly. Noctis wasn’t wearing underwear.

 

The photo was angled, taken from the chin down, only a hint of Noctis’ throat and jaw in the image. But it was Noctis; Ignis could see the fading bruise on his side from training with Gladio yesterday, the bruise Noctis had yelped at when Ignis had bumped into him in the kitchen before dinner.  

 

Ignis dropped his phone. He put his shaking hand to his face and straightened his glasses.

 

 _For you_ , the caption had read.

 

Why was Noctis sending Prompto a photograph of himself when Prompto was in his apartment? And how, by all the Astrals, had Noctis managed to send Ignis that kind of risqué photograph again?

 

The best thing to do was ignore it. They’d already had this conversation, and Ignis honestly wasn’t sure if he could sit through it a second time, watching Noctis’ face and knowing he was thinking about sending naked photographs of himself to Prompto. It wasn’t even jealousy Ignis felt at the thought, not like when he imagined the rest of Insomnia seeing Noctis like that. Noctis and Prompto being romantically involved only made Ignis feel… longing. Left out.

 

Ignis abandoned his phone on the living room floor and went to shower. He left it there, choosing to set his alarm clock instead as he crawled into bed well before ten o’clock.

 

He didn’t sleep, because he never went to sleep that early. Instead, he did his best to meditate, to clear his mind. When that failed, he retrieved his laptop and got started on his statistics assignment, the one that wasn’t due for four more weeks. As usual, it knocked him out within twenty minutes.

 

In the morning, he glared at his phone on the floor like it had personally offended him.

 

He picked Noctis and Prompto up after a solitary breakfast; they sat in the back, chatting and attempting to engage him occasionally, to which he responded with what he hoped was his normal dry wit. He delivered Noctis to the Citadel first, since it was closer than Prompto’s building. As Noctis climbed out, he stuck his head back in the car. “Hey, Ignis,” he said.

 

Ignis worked very hard to betray absolutely nothing as he looked at Noctis. “Yes, Your Highness?”

 

Noctis examined his face. Then he said, “Never mind. See you later.”

 

He closed the car door and headed up the stairs.

 

Ignis started up the car and drove back towards the city.

 

“Iggy,” Prompto said, once they were clear of the Citadel.

 

“Yes, Prompto.”

 

Prompto leaned over the front seat, his arms hooked around the headrest of the passenger seat. “You know, don’t you?”

 

Ignis glanced at him very briefly, then turned his attention back to the road. “That you and His Highness have become romantically involved? Yes, Prompto, I know.”

 

“Is that okay?” Prompto pressed his face to the fake leather of the seat. Nothing but the fake best for Ignis.

 

“I know Noctis has told you that he will most likely be promised in marriage to Lunafreya of Tenebrae.” That had been a fun couple of weeks, after Noctis had been informed of the likelihood of the political betrothal. “So long as you both have considered that, I don’t see why it’s any of my or anyone else’s business what you do in your spare time.”

 

Prompto slouched back into the backseat. “Hm. Noct seemed to think you’d be bothered by it.”

 

Ignis looked at Prompto in the rearview mirror. “Prompto. I have spent my life ensuring Noctis is happy, healthy and successful. If you contribute to that, I won’t be bothered. If you disturb it, I will be bothered. Is that clear?”

 

“Yeah.” Prompto met his eyes in the mirror, and then Ignis returned his attention to the traffic. “Damn, Iggy. You’d skin me alive if I hurt him, wouldn’t you?”

 

Rather than saying ‘yes’, Ignis replied, “I have had extensive training with knives, but very little with professional butchery. I could not guarantee you would remain alive during the process.”

 

Prompto whistled lowly.

 

Ignis thought that would be that. Prompto and Noctis would continue their romance, and their photographic exploits, while Noctis would learn the difference between ‘Prompto’ and ‘Specs’ in his contacts. Ignis would monitor suspicion around the palace regarding Noctis’ behaviour until Noctis was ready to tell the people who counted about his relationship: namely, his father.

 

But that didn’t quite happen. He assumed Noctis and Prompto continued their relationship, and Ignis did monitor the palace – but Noctis did not learn how to correctly operate a phone.

 

Rather, Noctis learned how to operate the camera very, very well, but failed to learn how to select the correct contact before snapping his increasingly, alarmingly seductive photographs.

 

On Saturday afternoon, while Ignis was out at a coffee shop with two friends from his ethics class, he received a message from Noctis that had him coughing up his Ebony. As his friends asked him if he was all right, he took the opportunity to claim bad news from home and fled the shop, carrying away the image of Noctis in the bathtub, one long, pale leg tossed over the lip of the ceramic as steam rose from the water’s surface.

 

 _See_ , the caption said, _I’m awake._

 

The following Wednesday evening, Ignis was still in his office at the Citadel at eleven twenty-four when he received a text and absent-mindedly thumbed it open while still reading the crop reports.

 

That was Noctis, silhouetted in front of the Insomnia city lights. He had an excellent view from his bedroom balcony, and he had taken full advantage of the back lighting in posing the photograph. He was a dark shape, all lean, bare limbs, indecent but artistic; he leaned against the glass, facing outwards, exposing himself to the world and his back – and scars – to the camera.

 

It was dark enough that there was no clear detail to his long-ago injury, but Ignis knew how self-conscious of it Noctis was. That he would send this photograph to Prompto spoke of a deep trust in their relationship.

 

The caption read: _Go to bed_.

 

Ignis decided to take Noctis’ advice, even if it had been intended for Prompto. He packed up his reports and went home, and stared out the window at his own view of the city lights until sleep claimed him.

 

But more often, and perhaps very in character, Noctis preferred to send photographs from his bed. He liked to sleep, to nap, and to rest, and that showed in the next three images he sent to Ignis. The first came on a day when Ignis had class in the morning and Noctis did not; it showed Noctis on his stomach, shooting down his back to show his behind and his legs, spread wide in white sheets Ignis had laundered himself.

 

 _Too much room in this bed_ , the caption said.

 

The next was enough to have Ignis excusing himself from the Council meeting he was attending in Noctis’ absence. Noctis was supposed to be in class, damn it; as Ignis locked himself in the bathroom stall and checked the message – just to make sure it wasn’t Noctis in trouble, genuinely asking for help – he was suddenly very, very glad of the privacy.

 

Noctis appeared to be in a secluded corner of the library, if the stacks of books behind his hip were any indication. In the foreground of the photograph, however, Noctis’ trousers were pulled open indecently, and his hand was buried deep in his underwear, past his barely visible cock to somewhere behind, beyond. Noctis was touching himself, Ignis thought, like Ramuh’s lightning bolt just struck him down to the ground. He had his fingers inside himself.

 

This time, the caption included a winking face. _Study break_.

 

Ignis resisted the urge to call Noctis and tell him to get back to class. He resisted the urge to call Noctis and tell him to go home. He resisted, somehow, the urge to call Noctis and ask him for another photograph.

 

It didn’t even occur to him to ask Noctis to stop.

 

If that photograph nearly made Ignis break, the next one was worse, for all that it was that much less sexual.

 

Gladio and Ignis still carried on their individual training sessions without Noctis whenever they got the chance. They had such different styles of fighting, it behoved them both to challenge each other, and also to work on their own team strategies without Noctis present. They never knew when they would come up against a time when their prince would be out of the battle and they would need to defend him, but both feared it without needing to speak of it.

 

After their session, Ignis towelled himself free of sweat and waved Gladio off as he offered the chance to use the Crownsguard showers. “It’s pretty nice, Iggy,” Gladio said. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

 

“Thank you, Gladio, but I prefer my own shower, even if I have to drive to reach it.”

 

“If you’re sure,” Gladio said, but Ignis was already moving towards the door, checking his phone to see if he’d missed anything vital in the last hour.

 

He saw a message from Noctis.

 

Suddenly exceedingly glad he hadn’t gone with Gladio to the group showers, Ignis made his way, at a controlled pace, to his car. When he sat in the front seat, his keen ears assuring him he was alone in the parking structure, he finally let himself open the message.

 

There were too many legs, and arms. Ignis tried to make sense of what he saw, and then it clicked: he was looking at Noctis held in Prompto’s embrace, both of them laid out on the couch in Noctis’ living room. They were both naked, and Noctis’ back was to Prompto’s chest. Prompto had one arm across Noctis’ chest, while the other was missing – presumably taking the photograph, as both of Noctis’ arms were preoccupied. One held onto Prompto’s, his fingers pale against Prompto’s freckled forearm; the other spread down across his groin, his thumb and forefinger framing his aroused cock.

 

No caption, this time. Ignis slid his phone back into his pocket and gripped the steering wheel with both hands at twelve o’clock, then put his forehead on his knuckles and tried to breathe.

 

When he started the car up, he didn’t have much of a plan in mind. He wasn’t surprised when he pulled up outside Noctis’ building and signed the Crownsguard guestbook, his name penned in neatly underneath Prompto’s. He wasn’t surprised when the elevator opened to Noctis’ floor, and he wasn’t surprised when he used his own key to enter, rather than knock and wait for Noctis to answer as he usually did when Noctis could reasonably be expected to be awake.

 

It had been over an hour, by this point, since the message. Noctis and Prompto were dressed in lazy clothes and playing a video game. Something exploded on the screen as they hit pause to look at Ignis.

 

Ignis knew how the interrupted explosion felt.

 

“Noctis,” he said, tightly. “Prompto.”

 

Prompto put his controller down very carefully. “Uh oh.”

 

“Prom, can you –” Noctis trailed off.

 

“Yeah, I’m gonna give you guys a minute.” Prompto dashed towards Ignis, detouring at the last second to grab his shoes and a set of keys and slide out the door behind him.

 

The door closed.

 

Ignis and Noctis stared at each other.

 

Noctis slowly rose up from the couch. “Look, Ignis –”

 

“I did not consent to this.” Ignis felt so stiff he’d come out the other side of solid and discovered a new state of matter. Moving robotically, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tossed it onto the side table by the door. “You know to what I am referring, I assume.”

 

“Ignis, I –” Noctis had that look on his face again, like he was full of words with no place to put them. “Look, I just –”

 

“Explain,” Ignis said. “You are sending me these pictures deliberately. You must be. Once or twice is excusable. This many – it’s deliberate. Explain why.”

 

Noctis exploded. “I want you to care!”

 

“What?” Ignis managed to say.

 

“I want you to care.” Noctis folded his arms tightly, going defensive, and looked away. “You care about what I eat, what I wear, what I say. You care about where I am every second of every day. You’re always there, and I thought it was annoying, I thought I hated it – but then you weren’t there, you completely ignored this whole thing, and – you ignored me.”

 

He sounded _betrayed_. He sounded like Ignis had deliberately mistreated him.

 

Ignis had thought he’d shout, but his voice came out very softly. “Did you want me to shout at you? Did you want me to ring you up every time you sent a picture and tell you to stop?” But from the way Noctis’ brow creased, that wasn’t it, and Ignis gathered what tatters remained of his heart, torn apart at the thought of hurting Noctis, and tried again. His voice came out even quieter. “Did you want me to reply ‘Very nice, Your Highness’?”

 

Noctis flinched, and Ignis knew he’d hit the centre of the target.

 

“You really are spoiled,” Ignis said. There was a sick, twisting feeling in his gut that he was tired of ignoring. Noctis flinched again at his words, but Ignis needed to say it, to have it out. “You’re involved with Prompto. Sending these photographs to me hurts Prompto and hurts me.”

 

Whatever was so fascinating about the fridge suddenly lost its appeal, and Noctis looked at Ignis, finally. “It doesn’t hurt Prompto. I – he knows. I talked about it with him. He knows. He –”

 

Ignis cut him off. “You never talked about it with me.”

 

“You’re serious about that consenting thing?” Noctis stared at him.

 

“Noctis, you’re cheating on Prompto. There is such a thing as emotional cheating, and you’re using photography and you’re using me to do it. I didn’t consent to that. I don’t intend to be used.” Ignis was being so very careful not to reveal his own feelings, but he thought he was doing rather a poor job of it. It was a good thing Noctis wasn’t used to considering Ignis’ feelings.

 

“It’s not cheating when he’s helping me!” Noctis thrust a hand at the door. “He wanted to send you photos of him, too, especially after whatever you said to him in the car! I talked him out of it, I told him to wait. I told him to let me handle it.”

 

Ignis couldn’t begin to let himself have feelings about that, about Prompto in the car. “Handle what?”

 

“Getting -” Noctis sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. “Getting your attention.”

 

“Well, Your Highness, you have my attention now.” Ignis spread his hands. “If it truly is yours and Prompto’s dearest wish to send me dirty pictures in an effort to make me – I don’t know what you want. To make me blush? To make me yell? To get some kind of reaction from me –”

 

“Fucking hell, Specs.” Noctis stormed across the room and Ignis fell into a defensive stance, his heart jumping into his throat as he tried to imagine what he would do if Noctis attacked him. But Noctis stopped a foot away and held up his hands. “Ignis,” Noctis said, and his voice cracked a little. “Would you please stop looking so scared of me?”

 

Ignis attempted to straighten his posture and smooth out his expression. He didn’t know how successful he was. Noctis carefully closed the gap between them and Ignis watched him warily as he lifted a hand; when Noctis’ palm cupped his cheek, he flinched. “What are you doing?”

 

Noctis sighed. Once again, he reached up and rested his hand flat against Ignis’ cheek, his fingers tucked under Ignis’ jaw as his thumb stroked his cheekbone.

 

It felt nice. Noctis’ hand was slightly sweaty – nerves, probably, because it wasn’t warm in here. Noctis never liked it too warm in his apartment; Ignis kept the thermostat low, so Noctis could wear all the layers he wanted, all the black he wanted, and still be comfortable.

 

“Ignis,” Noctis said softly. “Look at me.”

 

Though his heart warned against it, Ignis obeyed. It was what Noctis wanted. Ignis always gave Noctis what he wanted, in the end.

 

Noctis looked at Ignis with softness in his eyes and the touch of a smile around his lips. He looked at Ignis like he wanted to welcome him home after a long, difficult day. He looked at Ignis like he wanted to kiss him, his gaze straying across Ignis’ face, taking in his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth. Noctis looked at Ignis like he saw him, saw right through him.

 

“Your Highness,” Ignis rasped.

 

“There you are.” Noctis stroked his thumb over Ignis’ cheekbone again, and his touch was like magic, like he’d charged his thumb with ice or lightning or fire. “You haven’t really looked at me in weeks. I missed you.”

 

Ignis tried to protest. “I’ve looked at you.”

 

Noctis shook his head. “No. Not since that first picture. I thought you were embarrassed, at first, and trying to hide it. You hide a lot of things from me.” He touched Ignis’ fingers with his other hand. “But then days passed, and you still didn’t really look at me. And I started to miss it. I missed having your attention on me. Maybe I am spoiled; maybe I’m selfish. But I just wanted you to look at me again, Ignis.”

 

Ignis turned his cheek into Noctis’ hand. He didn’t dare close his eyes, drinking in his first long look at Noctis’ face in so long, so many days – weeks? It was weeks, wasn’t it. But he leaned into Noctis’ touch like he was starving for it, and maybe he was. Maybe he’d been starving for it for years.

 

They enjoyed each other silently for a moment.

 

Then, Noctis asked, “Can I kiss you?”

 

Distantly, even as he rasped, “Yes,” he realised Noctis was asking for his consent, because Ignis had made a fuss over it before. Noctis was paying attention to his feelings.

 

They swayed together, Noctis on his toes, Ignis bending slightly, and their mouths met. Noctis joined their fingers as he pressed into the kiss, his mouth warm and firm against Ignis’, just barely moving, nudging Ignis into tilting his nose one way as Noctis tilted the other.

 

Ignis broke away first. He touched his forehead to Noctis’. “Noct, I – this is what you want?”

 

“What do you want?” Noctis asked, rather than answer.

 

A question whose answer struck to the very core of Ignis. “You.” Ignis couldn’t just leave it at that, once he’d said it. “I’m yours, Noctis. I have been for a very long time, and I always will be. I think we both know that.”

 

They kissed again, drawn together by something more powerful than themselves. Noctis’ hand strayed into Ignis’ hair, and Ignis wrapped his arm around Noctis’ back. There wasn’t a spare inch between them from chin to toe.

 

“Good,” Noctis said, breathless, when they parted. “Good. I want you, too. I want this. I want to kiss you, and hold you, and sleep with you. I want to send you photos. I want you to be there, to look at me like that, and I want to be allowed to look at you, too. And,” he said, taking a breath, “I want that with Prompto, too. I know it’s selfish,” he rushed on, “but you’re both so important to me, the thought of choosing between you literally makes my chest ache, and that doesn’t mean I want either of you any less –”

 

“Noctis.” Ignis shushed him with a kiss to his nose, then his cheek. “I understand. And so long as we are able to communicate like adults, I don’t see it being a problem.”

 

Noctis looked down, colour on his cheeks. “You’re implying I wasn’t communicating like an adult before.”

 

“Those pictures are not the equivalent of talking.” Ignis glanced at his phone on the side table. “They certainly did communicate a message, but, I think, not the one you intended.”

 

“Okay. I’ll use my words next time.” Noctis kissed Ignis’ chin. “You still want me to send you pictures, though, right? Because I kind of really enjoyed doing it.”

 

Ignis tightened his hand, clutching at the back of Noctis’ shirt. “I may have saved all the ones you’ve sent me.”

 

Noctis grinned. “I knew it. Which one was your favourite?”

 

“The…” Ignis ran his fingers down Noctis’ back, lightly, his touch barely there. “The city lights.”

 

“There wasn’t really any detail in that one,” Noctis said, his smile fading slightly.

 

“The implied trust of that particular photo was powerful.” Ignis rested his hand on Noctis’ hip. “You don’t share that side of yourself with other people very often. Literally,” he added. “Knowing you intended me to see that – to see you like that – it’s quite compelling.”

 

Noctis kissed him again, and Ignis let himself fall into it. He got carried away in the taste of Noctis, chasing after him when he drew back to breathe; they kissed so many times, standing there in front of the door, that it surely made up for all the years they hadn’t been kissing at all. Finally Ignis used his grip on Noctis’ hip to push him back, walking him towards the couch.

 

When they reached it, Ignis sat in the corner, and pulled Noctis down to settle against him. It seemed like only a matter of moments before Noctis had a leg slung over his lap, and then Noctis’ entire weight was on him, pressing Ignis down into the couch as his kisses grew deeper.

 

Eventually, Ignis gathered enough of his thoughts to say, “Prompto will be back soon.”

 

Noctis rolled his hips in a lazy wave, an ocean of heat crashing across Ignis as he did. “Okay. Yeah,” he mumbled against Ignis’ collarbone. “Um. Hang on.” He went back to sucking on Ignis’ skin.

 

“Noctis,” Ignis said. He disliked the way his voice broke in the middle of that; his own body undermined his authority.

 

Noctis made a frustrated noise. He sat back, far enough back on Ignis’ lap that Ignis could see his cock straining at the zip of his jeans. Ignis’ own cock pulsed in sympathy; Astrals, he very much wanted Noctis back where he had been, and very much more naked.

 

“Okay.” Noctis drew his hands through his hair, pushing it back off his sweaty temples. “Yeah. Here’s the plan.”

 

When he said nothing, but only fixed his gaze on the dark spot on Ignis’ collar and started to slide forward again, Ignis held him back with a hand in the middle of his chest. “Allow me,” he said. “I’m going to go home.”

 

Noctis’ eyes snapped up to his, and there was a definite trace of hurt there.

 

Ignis explained as quickly as he could. “You and Prompto had begun your evening together, and you should continue. If I may, I will pencil myself into your schedule for tomorrow night. Prompto has to work, and we had organised to look over those meeting notes anyway –”

 

“Don’t start thinking you’re second best here, Ignis.” Noctis brought his hand up to grasp Ignis’, peeling it off his chest to twist their fingers together. “It’s not as though I’m only going to want to see you on the nights Prompto can’t be here. All right? Don’t think like that.”

 

Ignis realised that was how it had sounded. He nodded slowly. “Right. Well, I do manage your schedule, so perhaps you’d like to – tell me your preferences? I’m –” he hated to admit it, but, “I’m not quite sure how this is supposed to work.”

 

“If I could see both of you as often as possible, that’d be great,” Noctis said.

 

“I’ll – see what I can do.” Ignis squeezed Noctis’ hand. “My own schedule is somewhat demanding, so please don’t think I’m putting you off if I don’t appear as often as you’d like.”

 

“I know your schedule.” Noctis moved their joined hands to the side and slid down onto Ignis’ lap again. “I know you don’t take enough time for yourself. Let me help you with that.” He grinded his hips down into Ignis’ again, and Ignis groaned, his head tipping back against the couch cushions. Noctis’ mouth fixed onto his throat once more, bruising at Ignis’ fair skin, and it was all Ignis could do to stay where Noctis put him.

 

Prompto returned. When they heard the key in the door, they managed to pull themselves apart, Ignis nearly pushing Noctis off his lap and Noctis detangling Ignis’ fingers from his belt loops.

 

“Looks like you two figured things out.” Prompto beamed at them. “Should I be making myself scarce?”

 

“No, no.” Ignis stood, brushing his shirt down and straightening his slacks. It was difficult, when he was that hard, and he knew Prompto and Noctis could both see exactly what Noctis had done to him. He felt like a mess – a bruised, sweaty, aroused mess. It was rather nice. “No,” Ignis said again. “By all means, you two should continue with your night. Noctis and I have arranged to meet tomorrow.”

 

“A date, huh.” Prompto kicked off his shoes and ambled closer to the couch; Ignis clocked the way his eyes strayed to Ignis’ trousers three times, and the bruise at his neck twice, before jumping back to Noctis each time. “And I have to work.” He pouted.

 

Ignis headed for the door. As he and Prompto passed, Ignis paused. “Prompto,” he said.

 

“Yeah, Iggy?” Prompto made a valiant effort to look at Ignis’ eyes, but his gaze got stuck at his mouth, and Ignis knew there was definite truth to Noctis’ assertion that Prompto felt something for Ignis. Whether it was brought on by Ignis’ threats was another matter entirely.

 

“I’d like to take you to lunch sometime. Just you and I.” That made Prompto’s eyes leap up to Ignis’. “I’d like to get to know you without His Highness butting in every two minutes.”

 

“Hey,” Noctis said.

 

“Yeah,” Prompto said. “Okay.”

 

“Hey,” Noctis said again, whining.

 

Both of them looked at Noctis. His eyes widened, and he – maybe subconsciously – licked his lips.

 

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, too.

 

Ignis forced himself to draw away from Prompto and Noctis, despite that look on Noctis’ face that promised worlds if only he stayed a moment longer. “Goodnight, Noctis. Goodnight, Prompto.”

 

“Night, Iggy,” Prompto said.

 

From the couch, Noctis raised his hand. “Goodnight, Specs.”

 

Ignis pulled his shoes on, pocketed his phone and keys, and left.

 

On the ride down in the elevator, Ignis leaned against the carpeted wall and breathed out. He adjusted himself, fussing with his hair, the collar of his shirt. He had to untuck his shirt and let the hem cover the evidence of his arousal; it was the only way to remain decent while facing the Crownsguard at the front desk.

 

Just as the doors dinged open on the ground floor, his phone buzzed.

 

It took absolute steel will for Ignis not to look at his phone until he was safe at home. The instant his door was closed and locked behind him, he swiped open the message, his hand already sliding into his trousers to ease the pressure on his cock as the picture loaded.

 

Noctis’ mouth was open as if on a gasp, his lips redder than sin and full, swollen from kissing, from teeth. Prompto must have taken the photograph, because he’d managed to catch the glisten on Noctis’ fingers as they encircled Noctis’ nipple, teasing it to stiffness. But it was Noctis’ mouth that Ignis kept returning to, over and over; his mouth was red when Ignis left, but not that immediate, wet red, so probably as soon as Ignis left Prompto was on him, kissing him hard enough to have him panting, his tongue deep in Noctis’ mouth. Then tracing his lips, maybe biting at them, his teeth tugging on Noctis’ lower lip even as he caught Noctis’ hand and dragged his fingers up to his mouth –

 

Ignis came, his back thudding against the door as he lost the ability to stand up by himself. He slid down the wood and bumped on the floor, breathing hard, his fist wet with his own come.

 

Astrals. All that, and after training, too. He needed a shower.

 

The next day, Ignis picked Noctis up from class.

 

Noctis was strangely quiet in the front seat as he buckled up and set his bag in the back. His fingers tapped across his knees as if he was playing piano, when Ignis knew for a fact Noctis had never learned. “Are you all right?”

 

“Yeah,” Noctis said, but his voice was higher than usual.

 

Ignis drummed his own fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for an opportunity to pull out into the traffic of all the cars leaving after class. “Do you…” he said, slowly, “want me to simply drive you home, and then leave?”

 

“No,” Noctis said, immediately and firmly, twisting in his seat to look at Ignis. “No way. No. You’re not backing out of this. I’ve been looking forward to it all day. Please don’t.”

 

Ignis completely forgot about driving. He looked at Noctis, eyes wide, as Noctis descended practically into begging. “But you’re nervous.”

 

“Good nerves!” Noctis glanced at the traffic, then reached out to take Ignis’ hand off the wheel, wrapping it around his own wrist until Ignis could feel Noctis’ pulse hammering under his skin. “See? Good nerves. Ignis.” His voice was hushed as Ignis’ fingers curled tight around his wrist.

 

“I feel – much the same way.” Though Ignis dearly wanted to hold Noctis’ hand the whole drive home, he was far too responsible and aware of Noctis’ life being in his care within well over a tonne of speeding metal. He drove as carefully as his own nerves allowed him to, and they arrived back at Noctis’ apartment building around the same time as they usually would – maybe a few minutes sooner.

 

Ignis signed in at the book and they headed upstairs. The moment the elevator doors closed, Noctis seized Ignis’ hand like his life depended on it.

 

Maybe it did. Ignis felt substantially better after making contact, that much was certain.

 

As Ignis locked the door behind them and tucked his shoes into the rack, arms slid around his waist. He leaned back into Noctis’ embrace for a moment, basking in the clear affection. “I should cook dinner. And we have notes to read, on meetings.”

 

“I’m not going to be able to focus on anything,” Noctis admitted. “I don’t think you are, either.”

 

Perhaps it wasn’t responsible to try and handle hot things or read important briefings while being this on edge and distracted. Ignis turned around in Noctis’ arms and sought to kiss him, only to find Noctis already pushing up, backing Ignis into the door and claiming his mouth with a sweep of his tongue.

 

Ignis had kissed people before, but they were softer, nicer – academics. The ease with which Noctis pushed him around and put Ignis where he wanted him, the hard, combat-ready muscle that tensed his shoulders and lined his arms and chest – something stirred to life in Ignis, an awareness, a knowledge that he was with Noctis. He was with his battle partner. He would put his life in Noctis’ hands, and Noctis’ own rested in his.

 

Their kisses deepened. Ignis felt dizzy; something dark in him urged him to shove Noctis down to the floor and take him, claim him right here on his welcome mat. He’d make Noctis scream for him, arched up to Ignis’ touch in this royal penthouse with nobody around to hear.

 

Another time. Ignis cupped Noctis’ jaw in his hands and tore his mouth away to murmur, “May I see you naked?”

 

“Yeah.” Noctis’ hands snapped to his jacket. Ignis caught his fingers and helped him slide it off; Noctis would have shrugged it onto the floor, but Ignis guided him to hang it up on the coat hooks instead, where Ignis’ own jacket joined it. By the time they made it to the kitchen counter, Noctis’ shirt came off; Ignis draped it neatly over the back of a stool, and Noctis helped him unbutton his shirt, too. By then, Noctis had gotten the idea, and he ran a hand down Ignis’ shirt as they left it hanging smoothly over the chair.

 

Ignis wanted everything to be absolutely deliberate. This was Noctis’ place, and they had booked out the time in the schedule; there was no need to rush. They paused in the bedroom doorframe to toe off their socks and toss them in the hamper, Noctis’ sharp black and Ignis’ colourful spirals.

 

Then it was time for Ignis’ slacks and Noctis’ jeans. Ignis kissed Noctis before they began, tracing his hands down Noctis’ arms, across his waist, up his chest. He ran a thumb over Noctis’ nipple and rode out the gasp, Noctis’ mouth slack against his for an instant. He’d suspected Noctis would be sensitive at his nipples; photographic evidence of a fixation was hard to deny.

 

“Ignis, please.” Noctis’ voice was rough and dark.

 

Ignis would have given him anything in that moment. His slacks seemed a small price to pay to hear Noctis speak to him like that again. He slid off his belt and Noctis took it and dropped it, and they kissed again as Noctis unbuttoned Ignis’ fly and drew down the zip.

 

Noctis was apparently done drawing it out now that his bed was right there; he shoved Ignis’ slacks off his hips and they fell the rest of the way without a belt to hold them up. Then his fingers were in Ignis’ briefs, pushing, and Ignis bent to take them off, leaving himself exposed to Noctis’ eye. He didn’t have even a moment to be self-conscious before Noctis drew Ignis’ hands to his own jeans, the soft black denim far easier to remove than Ignis would have imagined. But then, he knew how often Noctis wore these jeans; he knew how often he himself had washed them. They were Noctis’ favourite, worn for comfort as much as style – worn when Noctis wanted to look good.

 

Noctis wore no underwear. Ignis’ fingers skated on bare skin as he drew Noctis’ jeans down, and down. Noctis put his hands on Ignis’ shoulders once Ignis had crouched far enough, and Ignis let himself slip forward onto his knees as Noctis stepped out of his jeans and kicked them away.

 

He looked up at Noctis. Words failed him.

 

Noctis squeezed Ignis’ shoulders. His eyes were as dark a violet as Ignis had ever seen, his pupils blown huge. “How much do you want to call me ‘Your Highness’ right now?”

 

Ignis drew in a sharp breath.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Noctis huffed a soft laugh. He leaned down, lifting one hand to comb through Ignis’ hair, softening out the gel, and pressed his mouth to Ignis’ temple. “I don’t mind. Your Highness – Noctis – Noct. Whatever you want. Whatever feels right in the moment. Don’t think about it too much.”

 

Feeling rather exposed, Ignis turned his head and caught Noctis in a kiss. He drew himself up from his knees as their tongues slid against each other, and bore Noctis down to the bed that Noctis had, apparently, made that morning after leaving it.

 

Maybe Prompto had made it.

 

Ignis didn’t know what he expected once he had Noctis in a bed, but it wasn’t this much of a fight. Within moments after pinning Noctis into the sheets, Noctis flipped them like they were on the sparring mats, pressing Ignis down against the mattress instead. He gave Ignis a rakish grin, his head cocked. “That all you got, Scientia?”

 

Ignis cupped Noctis’ behind in his hands, his fingers digging into Noctis’ cheeks. Noctis gasped and Ignis kissed him, his tongue plunging into Noctis’ mouth as he yanked Noctis off-balance and onto his back again.

 

They tussled and kissed, rolling back and forth as their hands roamed and legs twisted. Ignis had Noctis riding his thigh for a long moment before Noctis twisted and got both his thighs up around Ignis’ waist, Ignis’ cock leaving wet trails between Noctis’ cheeks as they rocked together. “Is this what you want? Just like this?” Ignis asked Noctis; he was shocked to hear the rumble of his own voice, and perhaps so was Noctis, if his moan was anything to go by.

 

“Astrals. Ignis, fuck – I – I want your fingers,” Noctis stammered out. He dug his teeth hard into his lip as Ignis’ cock slipped past his hole again. “Fuck – yes. In me. I’m crazy for your hands.” Now that he’d started, he didn’t seem to be able to stop, arching his head as Ignis trailed his hand down Noctis’ hip. “Fuck, Ignis, I love your hands, you know when you wear those gloves when you’re training with knives with Gladio, fuck, I love those gloves,” he said. “I always imagine you jerking me off wearing them. Your fingers are so long. I want them in me.”

 

He stared at Noctis, stunned by the pure filth dripping from that red mouth, and Noctis stared right back, defiant, daring Ignis to say something if the light in his eyes was his usual ‘excuse you, Councillor, but I know I’m right about this’ look.

 

Ignis traced his finger over Noctis’ hole, and Noctis surged against him. “Please, Ignis.”

 

Right. They were going to do this properly – spit wasn’t going to cut it, not if Ignis was going to stuff Noctis as full of fingers as he wanted to. He held Noctis down into the bed and reached over him to get to the bedside table, Noctis squashed under his weight as he leaned. Noctis didn’t seem to mind, his fingers bruising Ignis’ side.

 

“You knew that was there,” Noctis said, as Ignis retrieved the lube from the middle drawer.

 

“You have no secrets from me, Your Highness. Not for long.” Ignis poured the lube liberally across his fingers, then pushed Noctis’ thighs apart with his knees and tipped the bottle over down there, too, drizzling the lube over his perineum and hole. Noctis’ hands came around his cheeks, tilting his hips up as he bared himself to Ignis.

 

Ignis capped the lube and dropped it to one side; they might need it again. Then he spread one hand up Noctis’ chest, stroking him, as he began to spread the slick with the other. He massaged it around Noctis’ hole, watching the muscle quiver, opening and closing as Noctis clenched in response to the sensations, then gathered up as much as he could and pressed it inside with one slick finger.

 

Noctis jerked as Ignis’ finger worked inside him, his hips shifting. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

 

“Are you all right?” Ignis asked.

 

Noctis licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Feels – yeah.”

 

Ignis pressed his finger into the walls of Noctis’ passage; Noctis’ expression twitched, minutely, as he got used to the feeling of having something up there. “Have you done this before?”

 

“I’ve done it to Prompto,” Noctis managed to say.

 

“But he hasn’t done it to you.” Ignis felt that was a crying shame. “You were waiting?”

 

“Just hadn’t gotten around to it. He’s – really responsive –” Noctis cut himself off, making approving noises as Ignis thrust his finger in and out a couple of times.

 

“So are you.” Ignis tilted his other hand to one side to tease at Noctis’ nipple. It was already stiff before he touched it; as he pinched and tugged it, Noctis twisted, his feet scrabbling in the sheets as he tried to do several things at once. He shoved himself up into Ignis’ fingers on his nipple, yet pushed down against the finger in his rear, and his own hands were beginning to slide towards his neglected cock rather than staying where Ignis put them on the sheets.

 

He leaned in to kiss Noctis, trapping him underneath his body, Noctis’ legs spread wide under his weight. Noctis murmured against his lips as Ignis’ finger sunk deep inside him.

 

“I want you to hold on to me,” Ignis told him when he broke the kiss. Obligingly, Noctis brought his hands up to Ignis’ shoulders. “I want to make you come on my fingers alone.”

 

Noctis clenched around Ignis’ finger, but he said, “I don’t know if I can.”

 

“If you can’t, I’ll finish you off.” Ignis withdrew his hand even as Noctis lifted his hips to keep him in. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised as Noctis opened his mouth to protest. He pressed two fingers to Noctis’ entrance, and raised his eyebrows. “All right?”

 

“Yeah,” Noctis said. “You really love this – consent – thing –”

 

His face twisted as Ignis worked two fingers into him. He clenched tightly around Ignis and Ignis shushed him gently, encouraging Noctis to relax again. He didn’t want to rush the revelation of the prostate, so he just worked slowly, massaging gently, drawing circles and spreading his fingers only gently until Noctis was gasping underneath him and pressing as hungrily into Ignis’ touch as he was before.

 

Then he began to search for Noctis’ prostate, thrusting his fingers more deeply inside and curling, rubbing. Noctis clutched at Ignis’ shoulders and panted, his body growing more relaxed the more aroused he became, and Ignis wondered if Noctis was going to come even before he –

 

Noctis suddenly clawed at Ignis’ shoulders. “Ignis! Fuck!”

 

Ignis made a satisfied noise, a rumble right in Noctis’ ear, and rubbed his fingers over that spot again. Noctis jerked and whined against him, and Ignis kissed his cheek, his jaw, and then his gasping mouth as he lost himself in the reactions he drew from Noctis’ body. He wasn’t sure when he added the third finger, but soon he had Noctis’ hole stretched wide around his fingers, loose and slick, perfect to thrust into as Noctis rode his hand as much as Ignis would let him.

 

Noctis’ orgasm surprised both of them. It came on suddenly, powerfully, Noctis’ gasps rising to a shout as his spine stiffened and he bore down against Ignis’ fingers, trying to trap him inside. His come shot between them, hot stripes of it dripping white on his skin and sliding down to the sheets.

 

He’d be sensitive before long, but Ignis stroked Noctis through his orgasm as long as he could, wrapping his arm around Noctis to hold him instead of hold him down. He withdrew his fingers slowly, practically one at a time as he worked in and out. Noctis clutched at his shoulders as Ignis pulled out; “No, stay,” he said, but Ignis wasn’t sure he knew what he was saying.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised again, and Noctis relaxed.

 

Once he was finished, Ignis held him for a long moment, enjoying the lazy warmth of him melted against Ignis. Then he got up to fetch a damp cloth and a glass of water.

 

When he returned from the bathroom, Noctis was still awake, and he’d propped himself up on one elbow. “Thought you said you weren’t going anywhere.” His smile was only a half-smile, crooked, like he wasn’t sure how much he meant the joke.

 

Ignis sat on the edge of the bed and kissed him. Noctis sighed into it, and much of the tension left his mouth.

 

That sorted, Ignis rolled him onto his back and cleaned him, carefully, almost reverently. Noctis had a couple of mouthfuls of water as Ignis ran the cloth over his chest and cock, but Ignis made sure he put the glass down before he cleaned between Noctis’ legs, and good thing he did, because Noctis was sensitive enough that he fisted his hands into the sheets as Ignis worked. His cock made a valiant effort to return to the arena, but Ignis kept his motions gentle and business-like, only straying a little to press the tip of one finger into Noctis’ hole again.

 

Then he was done, and he draped the cloth over the open drawer to dry it as he leaned into Noctis and kissed him again. “That felt good,” Noctis said when they parted. “Did you…?”

 

After a moment, not trusting his voice, Ignis shook his head.

 

“Oh.” Noctis sat up and leaned into Ignis’ side, sliding a hand down his thigh. “Good. I was worried I missed it.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Ignis said. As he’d thought, his voice sounded wrecked, hoarse and shaky, but Noctis didn’t appear to hear anything wrong.

 

“C’mere.” Noctis ignored what Ignis had said and drew him back onto the bed properly. “What do you want?” he asked, hovering at Ignis’ side, his hand skimming down Ignis’ chest and stomach.

 

Ignis hadn’t expected to be asked that, but the answer jumped into his head immediately. Hesitating only slightly, he raised a hand to Noctis’ cheek, and pressed his thumb to his mouth. “I love your mouth. Your lips.”

 

Noctis tilted his head and took Ignis’ thumb in his mouth to the crest of his palm. He sucked on it and dragged his tongue up the curve of it; his lips popped as he pulled off.

 

Ignis’ hips jerked, his cock bouncing up at Noctis’ skimming fingers, ridiculous with want. Noctis smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s good.” He kissed Ignis, briefly, too briefly, then shifted all the way down the bed, nearly out of reach.

 

“I won’t last,” Ignis warned him.

 

“That’s okay.” Noctis never even hesitated. He set his attention on Ignis’ cock, then rocked forward and licked it, coursing his tongue up the length of it from root to head.

 

Ignis shoved his hand in his mouth by reflex, stifling the shout.

 

Noctis wrapped one hand around Ignis’ cock, and with the other reached up to pull Ignis’ hands away from his face. “I want to hear you,” he said. “Make as much noise as you want.”

 

He wasn’t a noisy person by nature, and he’d become that much quieter with his furtive affairs at university. But it was what Noctis wanted, and so Ignis twisted his hands in the sheets and let his breathing go as Noctis’ mouth descended on his cock.

 

His lips were red and gorgeous, his tongue active as he sucked on the head of Ignis’ cock. He didn’t seem to mind the taste, and he held Ignis down without worry as he bobbed lower, lower, taking more of Ignis into his mouth. His lips met his hand wrapped around the base of Ignis’ cock, and the sucking noise and friction he made as he pulled back up was enough – Ignis moaned something, “Noctis,” maybe, and came, his orgasm rolling like thunder across the night sky, inescapable and deep and bone-shaking.

 

When he opened his eyes, he found Noctis watching him. Once Ignis looked at him, Noctis ran his thumb across his cheek, gathering a streak of Ignis’ come, and pressed it to his reddened lips, his tongue snaking out to taste.

 

Ignis realised Noctis had pulled back at the last moment, that that was Ignis’ come slowly sliding down Noctis’ cheek and throat and chest. “Noctis,” he said, lost for anything else.

 

Noctis slid up the bed and kissed him. There was a salty edge on his tongue, sweat and come, but mostly he just tasted like Noctis, like warm human male. They kissed for what felt like a very long time, Noctis sprawled against Ignis’ side, as their hearts began to steady off into the same relaxed beat.

 

He retrieved the cloth from the drawer and wiped Noctis down again, and himself. The lube went back into the drawer, and Ignis’ glasses went onto the side table. The world went blurry at the corners, the lack of detail usually maddening but right now romantic, casting the dimly lit room into unfocus while Noctis remained sharply present in the foreground.

 

“You’re going to stay?” Noctis murmured, his eyes closed and his cheek tucked against Ignis’ shoulder.

 

Ignis didn’t plan on sleeping, but he knew Noctis would never let the chance pass him by. He didn’t mind. It would give him the chance to press his face to Noctis’ hair, to hold him close, to pretend that they could be this forever and they had no responsibilities outside this room. “As long as you’ll have me.”

 

“Forever, then,” Noctis yawned. Then he was gone, sleep finding him as easily as it ever had.

 

A promise a prophesied king of legend could not keep. Yet, for once, Ignis held Noctis close and allowed himself to pretend.

 

Later, when Ignis woke Noctis to make noises about dinner and the briefing notes, Noctis told him to wait. “Just for a second.” He dashed out of bed and headed into the living room, and Ignis sat up against the headboard, wondering.

 

Noctis returned with his phone, and Ignis huffed, though he was smiling. “Absolutely not.”

 

“Come on. It’s just for me.” Noctis climbed onto the bed with Ignis and curled up under his arm again. He caught Ignis’ hand in his free one and curled their fingers together on top of the sheets, then tilted the camera down to show just that, their joined hands, and the suggestion of their legs under the covers.

 

 _Click_. The moment froze on screen, Ignis’ thumb caught forever stroking over Noctis’ knuckles.

 

Ignis pressed his cheek to the top of Noctis’ head. “Send that one to me.”

 

Noctis twisted around to kiss Ignis’ neck. “Hey. Take your own.”

**Author's Note:**

> A short play, feat. [freosan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freosan/profile)
> 
>  **freosan** : y'all should go vote in the [kinkweek kink selection poll](http://freosan.tumblr.com/post/170667508220/voting-for-ffxv-kink-week-is-now-open)  
> pick some good stuff  
> if anyone's struggling to fill the 7 for situational please vote for 'ignis/gladio is the keeper of noct's royal virginity', for me
> 
>  **nocturnalie** : like if we're making requests then 'noctis accidentally sends nudes to ignis instead of prompto and then can't stop'  
> like damn  
> I didn't know I wanted that until it was an option
> 
>  **freosan** : that is a fucking good one isn't it
> 
>  **nocturnalie** : the best part is imagining what Ignis' reaction would be that makes Noctis unable to stop  
> is it spluttering or is it bedroom eyes or is it complete (pretend) ignorance in order to maintain the status quo and Noctis needs to ruffle his feathers, he needs to
> 
>  **freosan** : I LIKE THAT LAST ONE
> 
>  **nocturnalie** : give :clap: Noctis :clap: attention :clap:
> 
> [later]
> 
>  **freosan** : and Noct was already sending Prompto nudes so like what's that relationship
> 
> [the next day]
> 
>  **freosan** : Accidental nudes to Ignis is very low :(
> 
> [later that day]
> 
>  **nocturnalie** : you know what I don't care that accidental nudes to Ignis is very low  
> because I wrote my own  
> FIFTEEN THOUSAND WORDS OF IT  
> IN ONE DAY  
> uh ~enjoy I guess??


End file.
